Old World News

Olive and amber cedars
Turn lunar alabaster,
World trading for another

Every night on the mountain,
Handed back every morning—
Such an old story, it’s not

Quite a story anymore—
Such an old sequence, it was
Routine before fairytales.

So it’s dull. It’s a cycle.
It’s the mill wheel of the days
Since long before there were mills.

It’s still a revolution—
Every night on the mountain,
One world for another world.